Poems by Andrew Lang

All Poems Original Poems Translations

1 2 3 4 5 › »

Villanelle

Apollo left the golden Muse

And shepherded a mortal's sheep,

Theocritus of Syracuse!

To mock the giant swain that woo's

The sea-nymph in the sunny deep,

Apollo left the golden Muse.

Afield he drove his lambs and ewes,

Where Milon and where Battus reap,

by Andrew Lang

Ideal

Ah, mystic child of Beauty, nameless maid,

Dateless and fatherless, how long ago,

A Greek, with some rare sadness overweighed,

Shaped thee, perchance, and quite forgot his woe!

Or Raphael thy sweetness did bestow,

While magical his fingers o'er thee strayed,

Or that great pupil taught of Verrocchio

Redeemed thy still perfection from the shade

121

Andrew Lang

In Ithica

'Tis thought Odysseus when the strife was o'er

With all the waves and wars, a weary while,

Grew restless in his disenchanted isle,

And still would watch the sunset, from the shore,

Go down the ways of gold, and evermore

His sad heart followed after, mile on mile,

Back to the Goddess of the magic wile,

Calypso, and the love that was of yore.

by Andrew Lang

The Douglas Tragedy

"Rise up, rise up now, Lord Douglas," she says,

"And put on your armour so bright;

Let it never be said that a daughter of thine

Was married to a lord under night.

"Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,

And put on your armour so bright,

And take better care of your youngest sister,

For your eldest's awa the last night."--

by Andrew Lang

Culloden

Dark, dark was the day when we looked on Culloden

And chill was the mist drop that clung to the tree,

The oats of the harvest hung heavy and sodden,

No light on the land and no wind on the sea.

There was wind, there was rain, there was fire on their faces,

When the clans broke the bayonets and died on the guns,

And 'tis Honour that watches the desolate places

Where they sleep through the change of the snows and the suns.

by Andrew Lang

Alison Gross

O Alison Gross, that lives in yon tow'r,

The ugliest witch in the north countrie,

She trysted me ae day up till her bow'r,

And mony fair speeches she made to me.

She straik'd my head, and she kaim'd my hair,

And she set me down saftly on her knee;

Says--"If ye will be my leman sae true,

Sae mony braw things as I will you gi'e."

by Andrew Lang

Auld Maitland

There lived a king in southern land,

King Edward hight his name;

Unwordily he wore the crown,

Till fifty years were gane.

He had a sister's son o's ain,

Was large of blood and bane;

And afterward, when he came up,

Young Edward hight his name.

by Andrew Lang

Annan Water

"Annan water's wading deep,

And my love Annie's wondrous bonny;

And I am laith she suld weet her feet,

Because I love her best of ony.

"Gar saddle me the bonny black,--

Gar saddle sune, and make him ready:

For I will down the Gatehope-Slack,

And all to see my bonny ladye."--

by Andrew Lang

Melville And Coghill - The Place Of The Little Hand

DEAD, with their eyes to the foe,

Dead, with the foe at their feet;

Under the sky laid low

Truly their slumber is sweet,

Though the wind from the Camp of the

Slain Men blow,

And the rain on the wilderness beat.

by Andrew Lang

On Calais Sands

ON Calais Sands the gray began,

Then rosy red above they gray;

The morn with many a scarlet van

Leaped, and the world was glad with May!

The little waves along the bay

Broke white upon the shelving strands;

The sea-mews flitted white as they

On Calais Sands!

by Andrew Lang

Ballade Of Worldly Wealth

Money taketh town and wall,

Fort and ramp without a blow;

Money moves the merchants all,

While the tides shall ebb and flow;

Money maketh Evil show

Like the Good, and Truth like lies:

These alone can ne'er bestow

Youth, and health, and Paradise.

by Andrew Lang

Ballade Of Queen Anne

The modish Airs,

The Tansey Brew,

The SWAINS and FAIRS

In curtained Pew;

Nymphs KNELLER drew,

Books BENTLEY read, -

Who knows them, who?

QUEEN ANNE is dead!

by Andrew Lang